


Call off your ghosts

by passificrimjob



Category: Captain America (Movies), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Curses, Multi, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War Bucky, Tags to be added, Time Travel, Werewolves, Witch Curses, Witches, stiles and steve bromance, until now only implied sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 17:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4714844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passificrimjob/pseuds/passificrimjob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to a witches curse, Stiles finds himself in New York, sometime in the 20s or 30s, all alone and just about fed up with the supernatural.</p><p>He's wandering around miserably when he hears the unmistakable sound of somebody getting beaten up. The problem is, the guy being beaten just. won't. stay. down.</p><p>"Time to be the regular human hero, I guess."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call off your ghosts

The full moon reflects off the puddle of molten snow as Stiles struts along the cold and unforgiving streets of Brooklyn, shivering in his T-Shirt, hoodie and thin jacket combination. „Great, just great“ he mutters to himself, kicking the snow up as he goes. He’s always wanted to visit New York, but preferably with Derek and Cora to show him the best places, and Scott to be awed with him and y’know- of his own volition and in his own timeline.

He grits his teeth against the tears of frustration that threaten to fall. Fucking witches and fucking curses and his fucking _life-_ he’s interrupted in hiss elf-wallowing when he hears a fight. He should stay away, he knows that but… that one guy, the one who’s getting his ass handed to him, he sounds so much like Scott. It’s not even his voice, it’s that tone of nobility and bravery and stupidity. Stiles sighs irritated. Damn him and his stupid need to help anyone who seems too loyal and good for this world.

He turns and walks towards the sound of a man shouting out goads of “is that all you’ve got?” and “I could do this all day”. He eventually finds himself in a small, dark alley that stinks of trash and piss. His nose scrunches up, but he keeps on walking towards the noise until he sees two men – is that a man? He looks more like a child in his huge misfitting clothes. But his voice when he says “I could take you ten times over” is definitely a grown man’s voice. Stiles looks at the other guy. Big, hairy and probably drunk. He grimaces.

Right when the big guy is about to take another swing at the barely standing man, Stiles steps out of the shadows and tuts. Big guy turns around and sneers.  “This ain’t your fight doll-face. Find another alley to shoot up in.” Stiles raises both his eyebrows. “You gonna keep hitting this kid?” he asks, empathizing the “kid” part. Small guy grits his teeth, spits out some blood as if to start talking when Stiles barrels on. “You know the prison sentence for killing someone is 25 to life right? And the dude is already done for, I mean look at him” Stiles gesticulates towards the now rather angry looking small guy. “He’s down, he’s bleeding, he learnt his lesson whatever that might’ve been, man. Don’t make this worse than it needs to be, go to a bar, have a drink, forget about him.”

Big guy seems almost swayed when small guy spits again, this time right at Big Guy. He gets pissed, turns around ready for another punch when Stiles says, way too calmly “I’ve already called the police, man. If you leave now they’ll just take kiddo over here to the hospital. If you don’t…” Big Guy narrows his eyes, focused on Stiles again. “You’re lying” he says. But the police sirens can be heard in the distance and Big Guy makes a run for it before Stile can even blink. As soon as he’s gone Stiles let’s out a breath of relief. “Thank god for New York, always a robbery happenin’ somewhere.”

The small man looks at him verily as the holds his bleeding nose. Stiles winces as if he’s only just noticed the man’s injuries. He rubs the back of his neck, looking up at the small guy through his eyelashes in a way he knows made him look innocent and young. “Sorry about the whole- uh – kid thing. I had to get him off your back and words are the only weapon I have.” The man continues to stare at Stiles. The silence stretches out and just as Stiles was about to make some flimsy excuse and leave, the man straightens up, offers his hand in a handshake and says “I’m Steve. Thanks for your help, even though I had it under control.” Stiles tries to surpress a grin at that. He takes Steve’s hand without flinching, it’s not like he hasn’t had his fair share of blood on his body.

“I’m Stiles, nice to meet you Steve. Do you make a habit out of beating up men twice your size in an alley?” Steve laughs at that. “If the men are being jerks, I do” Stiles lets go of his hand and nods thoughtfully. “Well Steve-“ Stiles begins, about to say goodbye, when Steve suddenly starts swaying, leaning hard against the wall of a building to his right. He’s shaking all over and that’s when Stiles realizes that his hipster clothes are quite thin. He leans towards Steve and asks “Dude, you okay?” Steve nods but at the same time he’s sliding further down the alley wall. Stiles rushes forward, taking Steve’s battered face between his hands. “Hey, hey look at me.” When Steve won’t open his eyes on his own, Stiles carefully lifts his eyelids with his fingertips.

Steve is breathing shallow and fast. “Need- Bucky- get- air- asth-“ but Stiles had recognized the signs and calmed down immediately. He reaches into his inner jacket pocket, pulls out an inhaler and presses it into Steve’s mouth, while stabilizing his head. He pushed at the inhaler, forcing the chemicals down Steve’s lungs in a practiced motion. While Steve is catching his breath, Stiles puts the inhaler back into his jacket and rubs small circles into Steve’s back. When it seems like he’s breathing normally again, Stiles asks “Better?”

Steve nods and eyes the taller boy varily. “Where’d you get that thing from?” Stiles just shrugs and grins, his smile stretched thin. “It’s… kinda a prototype. It’s totally safe though! My friend used to have really bad asthma, Didn’t stop him from joining the lacrosse team of course. Stubborn bastard. You actually remind me of him.” He says, looking at Steve with a fond expression. Steve smiles back shyly and tries to heft himself up, partially leaning on the wall, partially on Stiles. After a deep breath he manages to push off both and stands without swaying any longer. He smiles at Stiles again, and starts walking towards the street, out of the alley. Stiles follows comfortably, outside though, he starts to feel somewhat awkward. He doesn’t really have anywhere to go. Steve must notice his unease because he offers him a cup of tea or coffee. “You must be cold and it’s the least I can do as a thank you, really.” Stiles hesitates at first, but then he decides that Steve doesn’t seem like a bad guy. He’s got a very perceptive eye for evil after all. Stiles agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys! this is something that's been floating around my mind a lot at work, had to painstakingly find all the post-its i wrote parts of the story on so y'all better appreciate that :P i hope you like it! (if you find any grammar mistakes don't hesitate to point them out, english is like my fourth language so i won't be offended or anything :))


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